


To Hell and Back

by undercovermartian



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, bottom iwaizumi is best iwaizumi, brief mentioning of masturbation and other things, shower kisses, when they first meet, when they get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:59:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undercovermartian/pseuds/undercovermartian
Summary: Iwaizumi was insanely attracted to Oikawa’s back. He’d get all hot and bothered just thinking about it. But as much as he liked that part of his body, he hated how Oikawa always showed that part of him when he was saying something important. He couldn't say the difficult things to his face.





	To Hell and Back

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoy. Please let me know what you think of this!

Two worn red High Tops, the once white tips now scuffed with mud and grass stains. His left foot rose as his right came down, heel then ball, sank into the asphalt with measured pressure, pressed back up into the air, repeat.

He watched as the shoelace on his left shoe slowly became undone with each swing of his leg. The plastic little bit of the lace came off a long time ago and the ends were frayed, pressed flat, and grayed with dirt. His bows were clumsy and loose, they never stayed tied for too long.

He paused. Ants. Black dots on cement. A long winding row of them carrying bits and pieces of a half-eaten sandwich dropped on the ground. He stepped over them. He walked, making sure to avoid all the cracks because he loved his mother, even though she fussed over him entirely too much, and he reckoned that he really did not want to be responsible for breaking her back.

 _Thud_. Iwaizumi _finally_ snapped his eyes upwards to find wide blown honey brown eyes staring down at him. A boy. He was probably around his age, he thought as he rubbed his nose. White polo, teal shorts, an alien Band-Aid on his boney knee, a dripping strawberry popsicle in his hand. Iwaizumi was about to grunt an apology when the other boy gasped.

“ _Hey_ , you’re the new kid from my homeroom class.”

Iwaizumi frowned, he didn’t recognize him.

“I guess you don’t know who I am? I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he grinned a toothless smile.

“Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“My mom just bought me ET on DVD. Do you wanna come over at watch it?” He sounded hopeful as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

He really wasn’t interested in aliens. He found them downright creepy. But his mom _was_ really nagging him about making a new friend. And Oikawa looked nice enough so he agreed with a hesitant okay.

“My house is this way,” Oikawa snaked his free hand around Iwaizumi’s wrist and he began to drag him along the road.

“Iwa-chan, why do you always look at the ground when you walk? What’s so fascinating about what’s happening down there?”

Iwaizumi’s cheeks start to heat up. His mother was the only other person in the world who ever called him that and Oikawa managed to sound just like her when he said that. She constantly chided him for keeping his head down. She’d say, “honestly Iwa-chan, you’re going to bump into something someday,” in her high lilting voice.

“Shut up, Poopykawa,” Iwaizumi huffed.

Perhaps it was fate that they met. Oikawa walked with his head tilted upwards at the sky, never looking at what was right in front of him. Oikawa’s mother would always yell, “get your head out of the clouds!”

* * *

 

They became friends, best of friends so quickly and effortlessly it took everyone, especially Iwaizumi by surprise. He never was one to open up to others easily, and the kids were put off by his coarseness. Oikawa took him all in with a smile and open arms, filled in his silences with easy conversation about everything and anything. He wormed his way into Iwaizumi’s life, stuck to his side like a burr. He got underneath Iwaizumi’s skin constantly, he was annoying, Oikawa made him so _angry_ he wanted to scream. But he could not untangle himself from Oikawa. He really didn’t want to. 

Iwaizumi remembered looking at Oikawa who was walking in front of him. The sleeves of his shirt hung off his shoulders and covered half of his hands which he waved back and forth as he tried to convince Iwaizumi to become an astronaut with him.

“Just think about it, Iwa-chan. We could see the stars together. We could go to the moon. We could meet the aliens,” he looked back at Iwaizumi with watering eyes, brimming with hope.

Iwaizumi shook his head, “you’re too weird, they’d send your ugly butt right back to Earth.” Oikawa gasped feigning offense.

“They would so love me. They’d love me so much they’d beg me to stay with them forever.” They argued all the way down to school.

Iwaizumi remembered wondering with a crushing sort of fondness how a body so small could hold a heart so big.

* * *

 

 _Stupid, stupid, Stupidkawa_. They were twelve, caught in the throes of puberty. Iwaizumi’s feet got bigger, his pants started to barely cover his ankles, his arms and legs were covered with a thin layer of hair.  He came back to school with shiny new shoes, longer trousers, and a voice that cracked every ten seconds.

 But Oikawa…He shot up like some beautiful weed over the summer. Long and lithe, his body held nothing of the awkwardness that Iwaizumi’s had. His skin glowed, sun-kissed and golden whereas Iwaizumi’s was a burnt shade of acne prone orange. Baby fat melted away leaving behind a sculpted, handsome face in its stead.

Iwaizumi noticed the change. People noticed the change. Heads turned when Oikawa walked by, whispers following his wake. The boys eyed him with jealousy, the girls obsessed over him. The shy ones cooed and pinned from a distance, the bolder ones would brave a confession. Oikawa drank in their affection, returned it with kind smiles and soft touches. He’d hold their hands, even kissed some of them on the cheek.

“Their faces are just so soft Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said dreamily, a sigh passing through his lips, gazing out into the distance. Iwaizumi scrunched his nose. He thought kissing was gross and the fact that Oikawa was kissing people made him feel uncomfortable even though he could not figure out why.

He stared at Oikawa’s fingers interlocked with a hand that belonged to some nameless pretty girl in their year as they walked down the hall. Oikawa whispered something to her and she turned into a giggling, blushing mess.

Iwaizumi shoved his hands into his pockets thinking about how Oikawa’s shoulders could support the weight of his stupid, inflated, pretty head.

* * *

 

They were in gym class. The volleyball deflected squarely off Oikawa’s extended forearms, spiraled into the air in a dizzying wide arch. It hit the floor of the other side of the gymnasium with an echoing crack.

He watched Oikawa’s spine realigned, each vertebra shifting and settling into place. Set. Oikawa’s shoulders squared. Determined. He stared down at his stinging palm. Intent.

“The volleyball team is recruiting next week. I’m going to try out.” Iwaizumi heard the silent question in his voice. _Do you want to do this with me_? He turned around. Oikawa’s eyes shone with something that Iwaizumi never saw before, something that made his breath stop and his heart race so he said okay, without a shadow of a doubt.

* * *

 

It was so unfair. In addition to being blessed with height, Oikawa’s body was lined with lean muscle. Sculpted, strong legs, a flat toned stomach, arms that were the physical representation of strength and grace. And his back. His back grew broad and _god_ Iwaizumi found his eyes drifting to it, his mind wandering back to the sight on long sleepless nights, the image burned to the back of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, bit into the soft flesh underneath his thumb as his other hand traveled downward, sweaty and shaky, underneath the waistband of his boxers, he pulled.

It ends with a shuttering sigh followed by instantaneous regret.

* * *

 

It was their final game of their high school careers. His speech was brief, “I trust you,” his eyes locked onto each of team members, held them captive in his gaze for a moment before he released them and went on to the next. His eyes met Iwaizumi’s for a long, long moment and Iwaizumi gave him a hard nod. _I trust you, too._

“I hope that you trust me. We are going to win this. We are going to crush Karasuno,” his eyes gleamed with icy confidence. Everyone responded with a loud, resounding yes. Oikawa was their leader, and he was going to lead them to victory.

Oikawa turned and walked out the door of the locker room. His shoulders looked so strong, confident, sure of his power. _I’d follow him to hell and back if he asked_. Iwaizumi followed right behind.

* * *

 

The game ended. The sound of the ball that grazed the tips of Oikawa’s fingers and flew right past his grasp reverberated across the stunned silent gym. Karasuno won. They lost. They _lost._

Iwaizumi watched Oikawa drop his extended arm down to his side and straighten his spine. His muscles were stiff as he robotically walked to face his team. As he passed Iwaizumi he didn’t meet his eyes, but he tapped him on the back, the hit knocked the breath right out of Iwaizumi’s lungs. _It hurt._

Oikawa rallied his shook team. He bowed robotically to the audience, then to Karasuno, rigidly shook the winding team’s hands.

There were tears (from Yahaba), righteous anger (from Kindaichi and Kunimi), blind rage (from Kentaro) and an overwhelming sense of sadness from the rest. Even Hanamaki and Matsukawa were subdued. The sense of loss was palpable.

Oikawa comforted them all. His tone was light as he told them, “I guess we can’t win them all, you’ll get them next year, I’m sure.” He smiled at them as he waved them goodbye. His eyes were cold and his shoulders were tensing by the second.

Oikawa turned to the now empty locker room. Iwaizumi followed.

The emotions swimming in his head were clouding his judgment, that was the only explanation that could explain why he found himself entering the shower that Oikawa went into. He stood stiffly in the steam of the hot water with his back towards Iwaizumi.

It was too late to go back now, he thought and he walked forward to wrap his arms around bare shoulders. Oikawa went so rigid that he feared he’d break.

“You don’t have to be strong anymore,” Iwaizumi whispered and held him close. He felt Oikawa exhale out a deep breath that went shaky towards the end. And then he crumbled. His body went soft underneath Iwaizumi’s touch and the heat of water falling over them.

Oikawa turned around and he looked so _broken_. His wet hands caught Iwaizumi’s wrists as he pushed him so that his back was pressed into the wall of the shower. He dragged his down Iwaizumi’s face, tilted to the right and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against his hard.

This wasn’t really the way he envisioned this happening, he thought distantly. In Iwaizumi’s daydreams, they’d kiss under significantly less painful circumstances. It would be soft and sweet and it would be he would be taking charge. But really, this made sense, he thought as Oikawa licked his bottom lip. It was always Oikawa, always had been. It was Oikawa who took him by the hand, it was Oikawa who pulled and dragged him along, it was Oikawa who made Iwaizumi want to follow him to the ends of earth and back.

It was always Oikawa. He parted his lips with a sigh and let Oikawa entered his mouth and claimed him with his tongue. The kiss was rough and heated, all tongue and clashing teeth. Oikawa poured out all of the emotions. Frustration. Lust. Anger. Pain. It tasted bitter and Iwaizumi drank it all.

Oikawa pulled away after a choking sob ripped from his throat. He cried. Iwaizumi held him tight and hoped that it was enough to tell Oikawa that everything would be ok in the end.

* * *

 

“Since we are going to separate colleges, I think it's best we take a break, Iwa-chan,” his tone was light as he had his back turned to Iwaizumi. _Liar._ He was a terrible liar. Iwaizumi could feel the pain on his face even though he refused to show it. His shoulder bones were protruding from the t-shirt that he was wearing. He wasn’t eating properly. _Stupid-fucking-kawa_. Iwaizumi lunged forward, barreling into Oikawa’s back and locked his arms around him in a bearhug.

“The only way I’ll leave you is if you kill me, Shitty-kawa.”

Oikawa let out a strangled noise. He turned around and stared at Iwaizumi’s face confusion and adoration etched on his features. He pressed his index finger on Iwaizumi’s forehead, down the slope of his nose, down the curve of his lips. “I think I am in love with you, Iwa-chan,” he said right before he captured Iwaizumi’s lips in a kiss. It was warm and sweet and it made his heart sing.

They pulled away breathless and dizzy. Iwaizumi pressed his head into the crook of Oikawa’s neck and whispered, “me too.”

* * *

 

They stood by the sink in their shared bathroom that was entirely too small to fit two grown men at the same time. Oikawa’s elbow jabbed into his side as he brushed his teeth. He bent down to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth when Iwaizumi looked down at him. He was shirtless. The freckles that dotted the smooth skin on Oikawa’s back were extremely visible now that it was winter. He eyed the fine, red lines he clawed down Oikawa’s back last night when Oikawa had him pinned down and fucked him senseless.

His cheeks heated at the vivid memory. He swooped down and pressed his lips against the skin with soft, reverent kisses. Oikawa squirmed underneath him, pearls of laughter escaped from his mouth.

.

* * *

 

Iwaizumi peppered hot, open mouthed kisses down Oikawa’s naked spine and marveled at the way Oikawa became undone with each passing touch. He was so beautiful this way, wreathing and whining. The way he was splayed out before him, open.

Iwaizumi leaned forward and dragged his tongue upwards in one long, slow, measured lick. He watched as Oikawa stuffed his face into a pillow and moan. He did it again, this time two swipes of his tongue in quick succession. He watched as Oikawa arched his back and clawed at the pillow.

He felt was incredible. No wonder Oikawa was so addicted to being in control. The amount of power he had in this moment was leaving him with an intoxicating heady rush. Oikawa wiggled his hips, spread his quivering legs and begged for more.

I should do this more often, Iwaizumi thought, and he did it again.

* * *

 

Iwaizumi was insanely attracted to Oikawa’s back. He’d get all hot and bothered just thinking about it. But as much as he liked that part of his body, he hated how Oikawa always showed that part of him when he was saying something important. He couldn't say the difficult things to his face.

So, Oikawa had his back to him. Fingers dancing over the duvet, tracing meaningless patterns into the fabric.

“Iwa-chan,” his tone was supposed to be light, but Iwaizumi could hear the crushing hope in it, the crippling fear, “do you want to get married someday?”

Iwaizumi sank into the mattress. A current of warmth ran through him. _Of course,_ , and he said ok like it was the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

 

Iwaizumi peered out at the hall that was painted in shades of teal and cream. Blue and white carnations decorated the backs of the chairs the guests sat on. Oikawa oversaw the decorations, as expected, and he was also responsible for inviting the far too many people for their wedding. The entire Seijou volleyball team sat behind his parents and his in-laws. They were older now, slightly, but still very much the same. Hanamaki had his arm thrown casually around Matsukawa’s shoulder, pulling him down to press a lazy kiss into the side of his cheek. Yahaba was angrily fixing Kentaro’s tie. Kentaro’s face was beet red and constipated looking. Watari sat hand in hand with his girlfriend at the pew, absolutely smitten.

They were so important to him and seeing all of them here meant the world.

His eyes drifted up towards the altar. Oikawa had his back to him. The slate gray suit that he wore fit well like a sin. _Shit._ Iwaizumi schooled himself to not get horny before he walked down the aisle. His pants were way too tight and he didn’t want his raging boner to be on display.

He took a steadying breath. _So, this is it_. He stepped forward. Heads snapped around. The music began to play. Oikawa slowly turned. His eyes, honey brown and wide blown were staring at him. Tears ran down his face. A small smile played at the corner of his lips.

Iwaizumi’s heart shuddered in his chest, threatening to stop working. He willed himself forward. His left foot rose as his right came down, heel then ball, sank into the floor with measured pressure, pressed back up into the air, repeat. He never took his eyes off of the man who stood waiting for him. He walked.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really, like the idea of bottom Iwaizumi. I hope everything in here was in character though. I wanted this story to be good. *rips out hair in frustration*


End file.
